


a thousand miles up and we're about to get higher

by blackkat



Series: Silly SakuOro AUs [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Dating for Fun and Trauma, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, M/M, Protectiveness, for all of six seconds, other people's trauma, specifically Jiraiya's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: There's a man hiding in the eaves of his porch.Sakumo blinks, tips his head, but the image doesn’t change. A shinobi in a Konoha uniform has somehow managed to stuff himself into the corner of the roof, entirely out of sight from practically everywhere except the spot Sakumo is currently standing."Can I help you?" he asks bemusedly.





	a thousand miles up and we're about to get higher

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on my Tumblr: Pretending to be lovers initially to mess with Jiraiya and spiralling from there. Alternatively, he /thought/ it was a prank because accepting it as reality is nightmare inducing until Sakumo and Orochimaru do surprise proposals on each other.

There's a man hiding in the eaves of his porch.

Sakumo blinks, tips his head, but the image doesn’t change. A shinobi in a Konoha uniform has somehow managed to stuff himself into the corner of the roof, entirely out of sight from practically everywhere except the spot Sakumo is currently standing. It’s likely not an attempt to kill him, because the shinobi is truly wedged into his spot, and unless he can phase through wood Sakumo will have all the time in the world to get out of the way. Besides, that fall of black hair is familiar—Sakumo may or may not have spent the past few weeks admiring it surreptitiously.

“Can I help you?” he asks, bemused.

His friend’s teammate gives him a withering look. “Be _quiet_ ,” he hisses. “I only just lost that oaf.”

“Sakumo!” said oaf calls cheerfully, and Sakumo watches Orochimaru’s eyes widen with horror. He makes a valiant attempt to merge with the wood behind him, and Sakumo tells himself very firmly not to laugh as he drops his gaze to the man bounding up his walk.

“Jiraiya,” he returns amiably. “You haven’t run away back to Ame yet, I see.”

Jiraiya winces, rubbing a hand over his wild hair. “Not you, too,” he complains. “Orochimaru still won't stop making snide comments about that.”

Privately, Sakumo thinks Jiraiya deserves it, for leaving Konoha in the middle of the Second World War just to care for a handful of children. Noble, certainly, but also stupid and irresponsible and reckless and a dozen other adjectives Sakumo wants to pound into his friend’s thick skull.

Still, all he does is smile. No use in making a fuss when it’s all over and done with, and there's no changing anything. “Sorry, sorry. What did you need?”

Jiraiya pulls a face. “Any chance you’ve seen Orochimaru lurking around here somewhere? He keeps avoiding me, and this time he used _kawarimi_. To get away from _me_. The bastard.”

Sakumo very conspicuously doesn’t glance up. If the topic Jiraiya keeps trying to address is what he thinks it is, Orochimaru has every reason to be hiding like that. “I haven’t, sorry. Not since this morning in the library.” It’s even mostly the truth, if he leaves out his glimpse just now.

Sighing, Jiraiya nods his thanks. “All right, I’ll go check there again, just in case. Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” Sakumo says cheerfully, and watches him lope away. He gives it an extra thirty seconds just to be safe, then glances up, and says dryly, “I think you’d better come inside.”

There's a pause as Orochimaru clearly debates this, but eventually he inclines his head, extracts himself from the narrow space, and drops lightly to the porch, landing without a sound.

“Thank you,” he says with dignity. “I appreciate the misdirection.”

“The lie,” Sakumo corrects, but waves him in nevertheless, pushing the door open and deactivating the seals with a flicker of chakra. “It must be really bad if even you’ve hit your limit. You were on the same genin team, right?”

Pathetic to ask, honestly; he _knows_ Orochimaru was, has been listening to Jiraiya’s offhand and abbreviated stories of him with a greedy avarice for years now. Honestly, Jiraiya can talk about having dinner with Orochimaru and Sakumo hangs on his every word, imagines delicate fingers and elegant features and sharp golden eyes until he can barely keep from turning red.

It’s safe to say that Sakumo knows Orochimaru was on Team Sarutobi, knows how he acted and what he was good at and how he relaxed after training, but it’s not like he can _say that_.

“Yes,” Orochimaru confirms, waiting politely for Sakumo to take his shoes off before he follows him towards the kitchen. “He’s been…insufferable since he learned Tsunade was gone.”

Sakumo can't help a faint frown at that. One would think the Hokage's granddaughter, the Hokage's niece, the Hokage's student would know better, would have more loyalty than to abandon her village, but apparently not. While he can respect loss, and that everyone bears it in their own way, Sakumo also can't help but feel a flicker of anger when he thinks of Tsunade's departure, slipping out in the middle of the night like a thief. They're shinobi, and _everyone_ has lost someone. That’s the price of this life they live.

Sakumo lost his wife barely three years ago. He knows all too well what it’s like to have half of yourself ripped away.

“The Hokage can't give him another genin team? That would distract him well enough,” he says, and pulls out a chair of Orochimaru without even thinking about it. Belatedly, the action registers, and he winces internally, hoping Orochimaru doesn’t take offense.

The other man doesn’t seem to, eyeing him with something very like surprise before he flicks a glance at the chair and then gracefully sinks into it. “I assume Sarutobi-sensei remembers what happened last time he did that,” he says, and it’s somewhere between dry and biting. “If he hadn’t given Namikaze and his teammates field promotions, they would have been stuck as genin until Jiraiya returned.”

Sakumo drags his eyes away from the way Orochimaru’s hair slides around his waist and covers the curve of his ribs, and very determinedly goes to make tea. “I hadn’t realized he didn’t take them all the way through the Chuunin Exams.” Even more irresponsible of the man, though he won't say that, either. “Tea?”

“If it’s no trouble.” Sharp eyes linger on his hands as he sets out cups, and after a long moment Orochimaru says with quiet suspicion, “You had no reason to hide me. Especially when it forced you to lie.”

Sakumo doesn’t look up from filling the kettle with water. “Anything to help out a loyal comrade,” he says lightly, and hopes the inflection on the second-to-last word doesn’t carry over from his thoughts. Orochimaru is still Jiraiya’s teammate, after all. Not that Jiraiya seems to remember that.

Sternly, Sakumo martials his thoughts and tucks the little bits of sharpness deep down in his mind, getting himself back under control as he turns around. “Sorry, just a minute,” he apologizes.

Orochimaru waves that off. “I appreciate the shelter,” he says, and his mouth pulls into a grimace. “He keeps wanting to discuss his reasons for leaving. If this goes on any longer, I’ll have to resort to dating.”

Sakumo will forever deny the sideways skip of his heart at those words, somewhere between elation and sheer, ferocious jealousy. “Dating?” he asks, keeping his smile carefully steady.

Tapping his fingers against the tabletop, Orochimaru inclines his head just once, like the idea is vaguely distasteful but can be borne with patience. “Jiraiya is always squirrely when I'm dating someone.” A faint flash of a smirk, _far_ too pretty for such a mocking expression. “I believe it unnerves him to think of me having sex.”

It unnerves _Sakumo_ to think of Orochimaru having sex, though likely—hopefully—for different reasons than Jiraiya. Orochimaru is already gorgeous, and to think of him coming undone beneath someone’s hands, beneath _Sakumo's_ hands—

Sakumo swallows and wills himself not to flush. He opens his mouth to try for a platitude about finding someone nice, but what comes out instead is, “You should date me.”

Orochimaru’s fingers freeze mid-tap. His eyes widen as they dart up to look at Sakumo, and Sakumo has never seen him look quite so surprised before. “You're…volunteering,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to work out what angle Sakumo is taking on this.

Sakumo makes his smile as charming as humanly possible. “It definitely wouldn’t be a _hardship_ ,” he says, which is. Well. The understatement of the century, probably. “I'm more than happy for Jiraiya to keep his distance for a little while.”

Orochimaru blinks like a cat, long and slow. He looks Sakumo up and down, quick, subtle flickers of his eyes, and curls his fingers around the edge of the table. “It would require…physical affection,” he says, almost wary, and he’s watching Sakumo closely. “Jiraiya knows I don’t tend to take things slow. He’ll expect a certain level of closeness. If we pretend to date—”

What is he even _doing_ , Sakumo wonders. This is a _terrible_ idea.

And he has one that’s even worse, too.

“So don’t pretend,” he says lightly, and Orochimaru’s eyes snap up to hold his. “We could date, and make horrifying Jiraiya a pleasant bonus.”

There's a long, long pause. Orochimaru studies Sakumo like he’s waiting for a punchline, but Sakumo doesn’t think he could radiate _give me a chance I'm begging you_ more loudly if he had a neon sign.

“…Your son won't object?” Orochimaru asks finally, cool and composed except for a faint trace of red high up on his cheekbones. It’s absolutely the loveliest thing Sakumo has ever seen.

“Kakashi’s a handful,” Sakumo admits, “but I think he’ll like you. You're one of the best shinobi in the village, after all. He tends to be impressed by things like that.”

There's a smirk starting to curl the edge of Orochimaru’s mouth, and he pushes smoothly to his feet, taking three gliding steps towards Sakumo. “Jiraiya with certainly be horrified,” he says, and the light in his golden eyes in unholy amusement and no little interest. Sakumo can't even breathe under the intensity, especially when Orochimaru casts another long, linger look at him and adds, “Though somehow I don’t think that will be the only benefit.”

Sakumo couldn’t stop himself from getting his hands in that hair if he _tried_ , couldn’t resist pulling Orochimaru forward and leaning in. Orochimaru’s the one who closes the gap, and he kisses like it’s a fight, hot and overwhelming. Sakumo is breathless with it, but if he dies like this, it will be the very best way he could possibly go. He curls his hands Orochimaru’s hips, pulls him up and in, and—

“Sakumo, sorry, but I thought I felt—GAH!”

Orochimaru laughs into his mouth, low and warm and wicked, and Sakumo steals the sound from his lips and keeps on kissing him.


End file.
